Some Days
by trueblood
Summary: Some days she felt as though she were at a masquerade party. Some days she felt as though she was putting on a show. Pansy's P.O.V on Slytherins and such.


**Title:** Some Days  
**By:** Trueblood  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** HP characters don't belong to me.

**Warning: **Use of the word Mudblood and a humanizing look at a Slytherin.

**Pairings:** None really.

**A/N: **This idea just kinda sprung at me I find Pansy's character fascinating as of late. Please inform me of errors and as always please direct questions to the lady at the desk.

Some days she felt as though she were at a masquerade party.

The way that everyone's faces were perfectly painted to show no emotion reminded her of the porcelain masks worn at those balls. The masks stayed in place so that no one would be able to recognize one another. Sure the masks had intricate details that were solely for that individual, just like a person's facial features, but they were all just the same in the eyes of outsiders. They were all dancing around questions and spinning webs of lies in such organized unison that it must be like the ordered chaos of the dance floor. Trying to stay in beat and on rhythm with them must have been difficult for the Gryffindors.

Some days she felt as though she was putting on a show.

They all had various roles and personalities; one had to be sure to put the right act on for the right person. One had to always be aware of timing as well. Timing was crucial. For if you missed your cue, months of time and energy went spiraling down. Rehearsals didn't involve stages and curtains. Their rehearsals involved hours of scrutinizing others behaviors to make sure to get the character just right. It also involved many hours of looking in a mirror trying to get your eyes to sparkle just enough to dazzle someone for the chance of an unguarded moment.

The curtain was opened the moment any of the performers left the dungeons. One could feel the white hot simmering light beating down upon you as you try to perform. The calculating gaze of the audience trying to find a fault in your characterizations was like itch on the back of one's neck.

Some days she felt as though she was in a prison.

Those were always the worst days. Those were the days when she just felt a chill in her bones that wouldn't warm no matter the hours she spent in front of the fire place. On those days the sky was always a misty grey color, and ominous clouds of various shades of darker grey would swirl around the castle and threaten its inhabitants with loud throbs of thunder and streaking glares of lightning. All eyes were flicking around in such paranoia that it made one dizzy just to watch the eyes swirl from person to person. Arms were firmly wrapped around one's body to keep the chill and the eyes off of themselves.

On those days all performances and balls were called off.

Some days she felt as though she was in some cheesy muggle super hero movie.

Harry Potter was the loveable orphan protagonist along with his faithful companions, the Mudblood Genius and Weasel Face. Draco Malfoy played the devilish villain that was forted at ever pass. They saved the world and if they broke any rules, well it was in the name of justice. If they hurt anyone in their dutiful quest, well they were just a bunch of snakes that had it coming.

It made her soul throw up just thinking about the Golden Trio that could do no wrong.

Some days she felt acutely aware of why she hates Gryffindors.

Those were the days that were generally accompanied by double potions with the Gryffindors. The way that Potter couldn't even have the decency to spell his hair flat, made her want to shave his head and be done with it. The way the Ginger in the front row would eye any Slytherin with such contempt that one would have thought they had just raped and killed his grandmother. The way that Mudblood would raise her hand and wriggle it around until she caught the teacher and everyone else's attention made her want to sock her in her buck teeth. Didn't she realize what she was doing? Whenever she was in a class no one bothered to do the homework because they knew that she would be there answering all the questions. Didn't she realize she was deterring the learning process by not letting the teacher call on other less hard working students in an attempt to motivate them? God for such a "smart girl" she was definitely lacking some common sensibility and decency.

Some days she felt as though they were just teenagers.

On those days she felt as though she was only sixteen. She felt hurt that teachers, grown men and women, judged them by what house they happened to be placed in. Isn't this supposed to be the best times of their lives? Those are the days she wondered what had happened.

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! Please RnR!

Much love and I hope school is going well for everyone whose is still of age to be tortured to attend. I hope they haven't ripped all the creativity out of you'll yet.


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